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MaePate had been patrolling with the city watch for most of the day. He liked spending time with people like that, they didn't try to make much small talk, they had good senses of humour, and they do their job better when a Knight is around. Come to think of it, maybe he'd put in a good word for a few of them... After such a day though, one is inclined to relax a little, so he found himself wandering the streets with a sourdough roll in hand.
The city is rather picturesque when the shadows grow longer, he thought. He wasn't wrong, either. Brilliant light poured from the sun to wash everything a lovely gold colour so impressive that Reon herself would be proud. The only thing he could find to complain about were the crowds, but even then there was nobody to fault for that, so it wasn't really a valid complaint.
He turned right, into a less populated alley. He wanted to talk with Sir Morgan, but would look like a nutcase if he conversed with a spirit in the middle of a crowd. "Morgan, come talk.", Pate said. Shortly after, Pate saw a light blue man walk into view, as if he had been concealed by thick fog.
"What is it, Pate my boy?", Sir Morgan asked.
"Just wanted to talk. Looking at this city has got me thinking...", he paused to make sure Morgan was listening, "When one owns a city, does one own the beauty cast onto it by the likes of Reon?"
"Oh, good question! There's no answer that comes to mind, but it does lead me to ask if one can own beauty...", Morgan replied.
"Surely by the rules of ownership one could own a particularly beautiful necklace.", Pate retorted.
"A good point, but does one own the beauty that is caused by the gleam of it?"
"Surely that's owned by Reon alone..."
There was a break in conversation as they walked in silent contemplation, an amiable silence thickening the air. Pate had a good number of questions circling in his mind, and not half enough answers. Although, unanswered questions aren't exactly a bad thing.
Up ahead he saw a small gathering of people, so he quickly told Morgan to stay quiet as he walked past, but instead, Morgan let out a mighty roar. The people didn't look up. "My boy, they just cannot hear me. You forget, spirits are imperceptible by regular people.", Morgan laughed
Pate waited until he was out of earshot again before saying "I forget you're a spirit sometimes.".
"Well obviously", Morgan said, giving Pate a sideways look. "Pate my boy, I must go now. Although this conversation has been a joy, my strength is limited. 'Til later."
"'Til later, Morgan"
And so Pate was left alone again. He started on his way to the barracks, those chaps he was with today deserved a good word. They're the leading types.
The city is rather picturesque when the shadows grow longer, he thought. He wasn't wrong, either. Brilliant light poured from the sun to wash everything a lovely gold colour so impressive that Reon herself would be proud. The only thing he could find to complain about were the crowds, but even then there was nobody to fault for that, so it wasn't really a valid complaint.
He turned right, into a less populated alley. He wanted to talk with Sir Morgan, but would look like a nutcase if he conversed with a spirit in the middle of a crowd. "Morgan, come talk.", Pate said. Shortly after, Pate saw a light blue man walk into view, as if he had been concealed by thick fog.
"What is it, Pate my boy?", Sir Morgan asked.
"Just wanted to talk. Looking at this city has got me thinking...", he paused to make sure Morgan was listening, "When one owns a city, does one own the beauty cast onto it by the likes of Reon?"
"Oh, good question! There's no answer that comes to mind, but it does lead me to ask if one can own beauty...", Morgan replied.
"Surely by the rules of ownership one could own a particularly beautiful necklace.", Pate retorted.
"A good point, but does one own the beauty that is caused by the gleam of it?"
"Surely that's owned by Reon alone..."
There was a break in conversation as they walked in silent contemplation, an amiable silence thickening the air. Pate had a good number of questions circling in his mind, and not half enough answers. Although, unanswered questions aren't exactly a bad thing.
Up ahead he saw a small gathering of people, so he quickly told Morgan to stay quiet as he walked past, but instead, Morgan let out a mighty roar. The people didn't look up. "My boy, they just cannot hear me. You forget, spirits are imperceptible by regular people.", Morgan laughed
Pate waited until he was out of earshot again before saying "I forget you're a spirit sometimes.".
"Well obviously", Morgan said, giving Pate a sideways look. "Pate my boy, I must go now. Although this conversation has been a joy, my strength is limited. 'Til later."
"'Til later, Morgan"
And so Pate was left alone again. He started on his way to the barracks, those chaps he was with today deserved a good word. They're the leading types.
